A Beautiful Fear
by JJ Rust
Summary: A new girl at Hogwarts is about to turn Neville Longbottom's world upside down.
1. Chapter 1

Neville Longbottom lowered his head and carefully examined his intertwined fingers. It was the only thing he could do to keep himself occupied. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had their heads together in whispered conversation. Ginny Weasley and Dean Thomas sat together laughing about something. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown were having an animated discussion.

Everyone seemed to be talking except him. Once again he became invisible to his fellow students at Hogwarts. Neville sighed, his shoulders drooping. He glanced at the empty space next to him. Would he ever have a real friend? Sure Harry, Ron and Hermione treated him decently, but did they ever hang out with him? Did they ever invite him along on whatever adventures they got themselves into?

_Of course they wouldn't. I'd just mess everything up._

He frowned, thinking back to earlier in the day aboard the Hogwarts Express. He'd been so excited to show off his _mimbulus mimbletonia _to Harry. But as usual, things didn't go the way he intended. The cactus-like plant sprayed the entire compartment with stinksap. And who showed up a second later but Cho Chang, who got a great look at Harry covered in the stuff. Neville knew Harry was very fond of Cho. What must she have thought of Harry after seeing him like that? Neville wouldn't blame Harry if he never spoke to him again.

He was used to people not talking to him anyway.

A bit of a commotion arose in the Great Hall. Neville lifted his head and saw a line of First Years forming in front of the Sorting Hat. His eyes roamed over the little boys and girls, all of them looking so scared, like he must have looked at that age.

_And what's changed since?_

He frowned, rubbing the Gryffindor table with his index finger. Four full years here and he was still scared of . . . everything. Professor Snape, the Care of Magical Creatures class, Peeves the Poltergeist, exams, his Gran . . . girls.

Neville continued to scan the line of First Years.

_Wait a minute._

_  
_His eyes rested on a girl taller than the rest. She looked much older than a First Year. Probably an exchange student. And her appearance . . . Neville blinked to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

The slender girl had jet black hair with streaks of purple. Her face was rather pale, which accentuated her dark lipstick and eyeliner. She even wore a nose ring. He noticed she didn't smile. In fact, there seemed something dark about her.

_She'll probably go into Slytherin._

The Sorting Hat went through its usual song, though this year it seemed to plead for the houses to get along better. Neville didn't have much faith in that happening.

"Abercrombie, Euan," the hat blurted, and the sorting began.

Try as he might, Neville couldn't take his eyes off the strange-looking girl. Most of the names called by the Sorting Hat faded in his ears like a gentle breeze. But his focus sharpened when the girl's turn came.

"Pettibone, Janice."

He watched this Janice Pettibone walk up to the chair rather casually. Neville remembered his fear when he'd been in that exact chair five years ago. This girl didn't have the slightest trepidation of sitting down and letting the hat go on her head.

He admired her for that.

"Mmm, this is a tough one," the hat said. "You do like to flirt with darkness, but something in your heart keeps you from embracing it fully."

Janice rolled her eyes.

"You're a smart one, too," the hat continued. "In an odd sort of way. But when I look deep down in you, I know the house you are suited for is . . . Gryffindor!"

Applause burst from the Gryffindor table . . . except from Neville. He didn't quite know how to feel about this.

His eyes never wavered from Janice Pettibone. With a quick smile and a shrug of the shoulders, she rose from the chair and headed over to the Gryffindor table. Neville again ignored the sorting as it went on, watching her stride alongside the table, searching for an empty space. His heart beat faster as she neared.

Then her eyes found his.

Panic gripped Neville like ice. He turned away and lowered his head. His breathing quickened. _She saw me staring at her._ Would she yell at him? Make fun of him? He could hear her footsteps click on the stone floor. Neville prayed she'd keep going.

"Hey. That seat taken?"

Neville swallowed. Somehow he managed to turn in his seat.

Janice stared down at him.

He took a ragged breath. Sweat drenched his palms.

"Is that seat taken?" Janice nodded to the empty space next to him. It was then he finally took note of her accent. American.

"Um . . . uh. No."

"Cool." Janice's dark lips lifted in a slight smile. She plopped down next to Neville, who fought to get his breathing under control.

"Janice Pettibone."

He nearly choked when she extended her hand to him. What girl would introduce herself to him?

"Um . . . I, uh . . . N-Neville Longb-bottom."

Hesitantly, he took her hand in his . . . and gasped when he realized how soaking wet his palm was.

"Do I make you nervous or something?" Janice asked with a raised eyebrow.

Neville's mouth hung silently open.

"I mean, it's like you stuck your hand in a bucket of water."

Neville wanted to shrink away. He tucked his head between his shoulders. "S-Sorry."

"Don't worry. And you don't have to be so nervous. I don't bite . . . unless you want me to."

A breath stuck in Neville's throat. His legs trembled. He heard snickers across the table. He glanced over to see Lavender and Parvati giggling and staring at Janice.

"Hey. Janice Pettibone." She reached across the table and shook hands with the two girls. Both gave her curious stares.

The American introduced herself to the others around them. Neville was grateful to have her attention off him. He kept thinking about that biting comment. Just from the way she looked Neville believed she actually would bite him if he asked. For a moment he wondered if Janice Pettibone might have a bit of vampire blood in her.

_She likes to flirt with darkness. That's what the Sorting Hat said._

Neville looked up to find Janice staring at him. She gave him an almost predatory smile. He gulped loudly.

"So, Nev. What's the skinny on this place?"

"Um . . . huh?"

"You know. What's it like here? Good, bad, Indifferent. Snob factory, conformist factory, what?"

"Um . . . uh, it's all right."

Neville's heart continued its fierce pounding. His eyes focused on that nose ring. Why would anyone stick something like that in their nose?

"Haven't seen one of these before, I bet." Janice gently tapped her nose ring.

"No. Um, sorry." Neville lowered his eyes.

"Don't be sorry. Trust me, I'm used to being stared at."

Neville took another glance at her. For someone who supposedly "flirts with darkness," she seemed rather friendly. In fact, despite the nose ring, the weird hair and the dark lipstick, Janice Pettibone was kind of pretty.

Not that it really mattered. Outside of taking Ginny to the Yule Ball on a platonic date, he never had any luck with girls. And pretty or not, there was something unsettling about Janice Pettibone.

XXXXX

Neville walked out of Defense Against the Dark Arts in a daze. He gently rubbed his temple, trying to contemplate everything he'd seen in that class. The useless books given to them by their new professor, Dolores Umbridge, and Harry's outburst. If the rest of the year turned out to be anything like the first day, he wouldn't stand a chance of passing his O.W.Ls.

More importantly, he wouldn't stand a chance against You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters if he ever ran across them.

"Hey, Nev!"

He froze at the sound of the female voice. The chills returned, just like the other night at supper when he first met her.

Slowly, Neville turned around.

Janice Pettibone stomped toward him, brow furrowed, her narrowed eyes taking on a darker look.

"Is this for real?" She nodded to the classroom behind her.

"Huh? Is . . . Is what real?"

"This piss-poor excuse for Defense Against the Dark Arts. That textbook we have isn't fit for First Years, much less Fifth Years."

Neville's legs shook. Panic swirled inside him. "J-Janice. You'd better not say that too loud. P-Professor Umbridge . . ."

"Oh the hell with that hag!"

Neville gasped audibly. His eyes bulged from their sockets. Merlin help them, Umbridge must have heard that.

"Did you see the way she treated us? Shouting down anyone who asked a simple question. Cutting off anyone who happened to think differently than her. And that poor Harry Potter kid. Good for him standing up to that fascist."

"Janice, please you . . ." Neville stopped when he saw a huge mass of pink sidle up behind Janice.

"Miss Pettibone!"

Janice sighed and rolled her eyes. She whirled around on her heel to face Professor Umbridge. "Yeah?"

"I don't know how things are in America, but here in Britain the faculty of this school are to be shown proper respect."

"Even when it isn't earned?"

Neville's legs buckled. The panic inside him burst like water from a broken dam. He couldn't stop shaking as he watched Umbridge's face redden.

"It appears you'll be joining Mister Potter in detention this week, Miss Pettibone. And I assure you, young lady, when I'm finished with you, you _will_ learn to behave yourself."

"Uh-huh."

Umbridge lifted her head in a gesture of superiority and strode back into the classroom.

Janice turned back to Neville. He couldn't believe she didn't have one ounce of worry or fear on her face. Even more unbelievable, she started laughing.

"What's so funny? You just got a week of detention."

"Yeah. I've barely been here twenty-four hours and I'm already in trouble. That's gotta be a new record for me."

She gave him another predatory smile and lightly tapped Neville on the shoulder.

"See you around, Nev."

He didn't say a word as he watched the American girl head off with a confident walk. His jaw hung open silently. He couldn't believe getting detention meant nothing to this girl. In fact, she treated like a joke, same as Ron's brothers Fred and George.

Janice Pettibone was trouble, he decided. And if he didn't want get sucked down with her, he needed to stay as far away from her as possible.

XXXXX

Neville yawned, his eyelids feeling like someone had tied heavy stones to them. He checked his wristwatch. After one in the morning. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. But he needed to finish this essay for tomorrow's . . . rather, today's Potions Class.

He rubbed his eyes and put quill to paper. Now what would happen if he only put in five dragon teeth instead of six?

"Oh good. I'm not the only one who can't sleep."

Neville stopped writing. His heart pounded furiously. Sweat suddenly coated his hands.

Biting his lip, he slowly turned in his chair.

He stopped breathing when he saw Janice Pettibone sauntering into the Common Room. The invisible stones weighing down his eyelids vanished. Neville found it impossible to blink when he saw what Janice wore. A loose fitting black t-shirt with the words "IF IT AIN'T METAL IT'S CRAP" and dark red boxers. His eyes drifted to her bare legs. A bit thin, but rather firm. They looked nice.

"Oh jeez, are you working?"

Neville continued to stare at her. Sweat leaked all over his body. His brain screamed at him to go to some other part of Gryffindor Tower, somewhere away from this girl who seemed to like getting in trouble.

Then he looked at her legs again.

"I . . . I have to get this done. Or P-Professor Snape . . ."

"Oh God, him?" Janice shook her head and perched herself on the couch. "I swear I don't know which one is worse. Umbridge or that greasy-haired asshole. And I thought the teachers back at Fantimoor were bad."

"Fantimoor?"

"It's the wizarding school in Washington D.C. That's where I went before they transferred my dad to the U.S. Embassy in London."

"What does he do?"

"He's a Muggle. He's the FBI liaison for the embassy."

"FBI?"

"Federal Bureau of Investigation. They're like aurors."

Neville just nodded, thinking of his own parents before they . . .

"So how long have you been at it?" Janice asked.

"Um, I don't know. Three hours or so."

"Three hours? Nev, you need a break."

He swallowed, wondering what this girl may have in mind for their break.

Janice held up a box-like device with little earphones attached to thin wires. To him it looked like some sort of hand-held Wizarding Wireless.

"What's that?"

"My own little creation. Fantimoor's just like Hogwarts. Muggle devices won't work in here. And since I'd go stark raving mad without my music, I came up with my own little Wizarding Walkman. Magically downloaded all my favorite tunes into this thing. Come here." She patted the sofa. "Have a listen."

"M-Me?"

"I don't see anyone else around. Come on. Let me show you there's more to music than those posers the Weird Sisters."

Neville's stomach tightened. His heart threatened to explode from his chest. What would Gran think if she saw him with someone like this?

"It's only music, Nev. It's not gonna hurt you."

Part of him doubted that, especially with this girl.

His eyes drifted to her legs again. When he figured he stared at them long enough he looked up at her face. Her usual predatory smile was warmer, more inviting this time.

Neville pushed himself out of his chair and headed over to the couch, hoping his shaky legs would support him. Hesitating for a moment, he lowered himself next to Janice. Her smile widened.

"Now. Just put this in your ear . . ."

Neville took the little earpiece, and noticed bandages covering the back of Janice's hand.

"What happened to your hand?"

"Huh? Oh nothing, just a scratch. C'mon, let's go."

Holding his breath, Neville inserted the earpiece.

"All right. Prepare to be blown away." Janice tapped the walkman with her wand.

Noise exploded in Neville's ear. He yelped and jumped off the couch, the earpiece falling away.

"What . . . what was that?" He stuck a finger in his ear and rubbed, trying to get rid of the dull hum.

"It's called heavy metal. Metallica to be precise."

"You . . . how can you listen to that?"

"It beats listening to the crap that passes for music these days in the Wizarding World, or the Muggle World. This is real stuff, talking about defying authority, walking your own path, getting right up in someone's grill and yelling whatever's on your mind. Metal represents all the stuff people like Umbridge don't want us to be."

Neville bit his lip. He certainly didn't want to turn out anything like Dolores Umbridge.

"But it's so loud."

"It's supposed to be loud. To make sure those purveyors of conformity can hear it and realize not everyone is going to buy their bullcrap."

Neville rubbed his sweaty palms on his robes. He drew a breath and sat back down. "Okay."

He put in the earpiece and braced himself.

He winced when guitars and drums blasted into his brain.

"Listen carefully to the lyrics, Nev."

That would be a chore, given how much noise these instruments created. But he did pick up some words.

"_Master of puppets I'm pulling your strings. Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams. Blinded by me, you can't see a thing. Just call my name 'cause I'll hear you scream . . . Master! Master!"_

When the song ended he turned to Janice, shaking his head. "Wow. It's . . . it's like, that's just how Umbridge is. Twisting our minds, trying to blind us to the truth."

"Exactly."

Neville heart beat faster. Only this time, it wasn't fueled by fear.

"Um, Janice?"

"Yeah."

"Could . . . Could I listen to some more songs?"

XXXXX

"Neville. Enough with the humming already," Lavender Brown snapped at him.

"Sorry." Neville frowned and lowered his head as he continued down the hall to his History of Magic class. He'd been doing that often over the past few weeks. In the corridors, in the Common Room, even in some of his classes. One of the songs Janice played for him would pop into his head and he couldn't help himself. He had to hum it. Iron Maiden's "The Clansman," Judas Priest's "Breaking The Law," Evanescence's "Nobody's Fool." The song would change from day to day. Why did this music have such a hold on him? He wondered if it might be cursed somehow. Most of this hard rock and heavy metal possessed some dark overtones. At first he feared it might be leading him down some path that would turn him into a follower of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Soon he started to realize the music wasn't turning him evil. If anything it made him angrier about all the stuff going on lately at Hogwarts. Umbridge's inspections of the professors, her stupid Educational Decrees, her silencing of any form of dissension. With a wretched woman like that around it was easy to see why Janice so disliked authority figures.

Neville sighed, his pace slowing as he thought of the American girl. He liked Janice, though still had a healthy fear of her. He still had trouble getting used to her appearance. Anyone who looked like that he figured should be in Slytherin. And she couldn't seem to stay out of trouble. Every week she did something to land her in detention . . . and not just with Umbridge. Snape had given her a few, as had McGonagall. Even Trelawney gave her one. Trelawney! Though what could that nutter do after the fifth time Janice had called her class, "a bunch of bullcrap."

_Why does she have to do things like that?_ If it wasn't for all the trouble she got into, and if she looked more . . . normal, he might . . .

Neville shook his head. Who was he kidding? No girl would like him that way.

He entered the classroom and immediately searched out Janice. He found her at the same desk as Harry and Ron, where she appeared in deep conversation with the former. Neville noticed her pointing to her bandaged hand. Why was her right hand still bandaged? Every time he asked she'd just dismiss it as a cut.

_How many times can you cut the same hand?_

He thought about pressing the issue, but figured Janice would get mad at him. He didn't want to anger one of the few people at this school who would actually speak to him on a consistent basis.

Neville took a seat next to Dean Thomas just as Professor Binns floated into the classroom. The ghost picked up a textbook and read from it in his monotone voice. Neville took notes while most of the rest of the class slept or chatted quietly. Janice looked like she was doodling on her parchment.

After class Janice strode over to him, shaking her head. "My God, I didn't think this class could get any more boring. Was Binns the only one who applied for this job, because I think that Womping Willow outside could do a better job teaching this class."

Neville swallowed. Janice had said it loud enough for everyone in the class to hear. His neck muscles tightened as he turned to the front of the classroom, expecting Professor Binns to reprimand Janice.

Instead the old ghost floated through the blackboard and vanished.

"Come on, Nev." Janice nodded toward the door. "I need a pick me up after this snoozefest."

Excitement sparked within him. Neville knew what a pick me up for Janice entailed.

They walked through the corridor until the spotted an empty bench and sat. She pulled out her Wizarding Walkman and handed one of the earpieces to Neville.

"I just put this one in yesterday. Trust me. You're gonna love it."

Neville inserted the earpiece. At first he was surprised to hear the sound of a piano. The hard-driving guitar common to most of the songs Janice listened to followed, along with a woman's operatic voice.

"_This is me, for forever, one of the lost ones . . ."_

Janice bobbed her head up and down to the music. Neville wanted to, but refrained, afraid of the looks passersby would give.

His eyes fixed on Janice, her black and purple hair flailing wildly. At times like this he admired her free spirit attitude. She did what she wanted and didn't care if people gave her strange looks.

"_Oh how I wish, for soothing rain. Oh how I wish to dream again. My loving heart, lost in the dark, for hope I'd give my everything."_

His heartbeat quickened. He couldn't take his eyes off Janice. He didn't want to. The song couldn't be more right. He did feel like his heart was lost in the dark. And if he did hope for . . . well, that hope would probably be in vain.

"You like?" Janice asked once the song ended.

"What? Oh yeah. Who is this?"

"Nightwish. They're a metal opera band from Finland. 'Nemo' is, like, their best song. Here, let me play another one. We can dedicate it to Umbridge's stupid class. 'Planet Hell.'"

The song had a much harder beat than 'Nemo.'

"_Denying, the lying. A million children fighting. For lives, in strife. For hope beyond the horizon. A dead world, a dark path. Not even crossroads to choose from."_

Neville couldn't help himself. His head began to bob. A smile formed on his face. He didn't care what people who passed by thought. He was enjoying himself.

"What are you two doing?"

A fiery spear of terror sliced through Neville. He tried to look up, but fear paralyzed him. Not that he needed to look up to know who that voice belonged to.

Professor Umbridge.

"I asked what you two were doing, and I would like an answer now."

"We're listening to music," Janice answered.

"What sort of music?"

"Good music."

"I shall be the judge of that."

Neville finally overcame his fear-induced paralysis and lifted his head. Umbridge stretched out her arm, palm flat. Janice removed her earpiece. Neville did likewise before Janice placed the Wizarding Walkman in Umbridge's chunky palm.

"How does it work?"

Janice gave the woman a quick tutorial. Umbridge inserted the earpiece and tapped the walkman with her wand.

She screamed as if being tortured. Umbridge yanked out the earpiece and clutched her chest, breathing heavy.

"What . . . what sort of sickening noise is this?"

"Actually, that's Nightwish. If it's sickening noise you want, I'd suggest Ashlee Simpson or N'Sync."

Umbridge tried to get her breathing under control. "You . . . You're Muggle-born, correct?"

"Yeah. So?"

"So is this Muggle music?"

"Again . . . Yeah. So?"

"No, no, no. This will not do. We cannot allow this sort of filth to disrupt the educational process at Hogwarts."

"Who's we?" Janice made no attempt to hide her anger.

"Myself and the Ministry of Magic, that's who, young lady. I will have to post another Educational Decree forbidding Muggle music on school grounds."

"What?" Janice jumped off the bench. "What the hell for?"

"Ten points from Gryffindor for foul language. And I'm doing this because we do not need any influences from that _other world_ polluting our own."

The pale skin on Janice's cheeks vanished, replaced by a fiery red. "'That other world'? 'Polluting our own'? Can you hear yourself? What are you, some sort of bigot?"

Now Umbridge's fleshy face glowed red.

"Janice, please." Neville urged.

She ignored him, glaring at Umbridge.

"Is it bigoted to preserve the traditions that have made the Wizarding World great for centuries?" Umbridge spoke very deliberately. "Is it bigoted to do everything within your power to fight those who would seek to pervert those traditions?"

"By 'those' do you mean poor wayward Mudbloods like me?"

Neville's eyes widened. He couldn't believe even Janice would use that slur to describe herself.

Umbridge took a step toward her. Janice didn't back down.

The DADA professor put on a warm smile. "The Muggles have their world, and we have ours. And that's how it should be. And we don't need _your kind _coming into _our world_ to spread discord with your radical ideas."

Neville went numb with shock. In all his years at Hogwarts he'd never heard any teacher utter something so blatantly racist.

His shock soon crumbled, replaced by something else.

Anger. It burned white hot within him. If only he could express it. Stand up and holler in this ugly toad's face.

Defend Janice's honor.

Janice, however, showed she was perfectly capable of doing that herself.

"Go to hell, you racist cow."

Neville nearly fainted when he heard those words come out of his friend's mouth. Never in his life could he believe a student would say something like that to a teacher.

Umbridge appeared equally stunned. She took a step back. Her mouth opened, but no sound came from it.

"My office, Miss Pettibone," she hissed. "Now."

Janice snorted and rolled her eyes. She took a quick glance in his direction. "See you later, Nev."

Janice stomped down the corridor.

Umbridge began to follow, then turned back to Neville. His entire body trembled.

"Mister Longbottom. You'd do well to find yourself more . . . acceptable company."

Umbridge waddled off.

Neville stood in the hallway, his mind working to comprehend everything that had just happened. He could easily say Janice was way out of line, even for her. But Umbridge's comments . . . and banning Muggle music. How could that possibly disrupt things at Hogwarts? Especially if only he and Janice listened to it.

The flames of anger grew inside him. He could only imagine what Umbridge would say to Janice in her office. Would she hurl more racist insults at her? Would she expel her from Hogwarts? That thought made his stomach twist in anxious knots.

Neville slowly ran his fingers through his dark hair. His breathing turned into loud grunts. Umbridge's fat ugly face blazed in his mind. His ears rang with her horrible words to Janice.

Neville spotted a waste bin nearby. With a roar he kicked it and sent it bouncing down the corridor.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_The lyrics are solely those of Metallica and Nightwish and are used in this story for purely fictional purposes. And obviously, I don't own Harry Potter, though Janice Pettibone is my original character._


	2. Chapter 2

_You wanted to do this. Now go in._

Neville stayed put, peering around the corner of Binglebog's Second-Hand Robes store. He bit his lower lip as he eyed the Hog's Head. He wanted to go in so bad.

As always, fear gripped him.

He thought back to earlier in the week when Hermione approached him about forming their own Defense Against the Dark Arts group. He jumped at the chance to join them. Who better to show him how to take on Voldemort and his Death Eaters than the guy who'd actually done it . . . Harry Potter.

He also had another reason for wanting to do it, a more personal reason than Harry or Hermione could ever imagine.

But here he was, rooted to the spot by his most loyal, most unwelcome companion . . . fear.

_What if Umbridge catches us?_ Forget detention. He could be looking at expulsion. And Gran. Neville gulped when he thought of her. She would blow with the fury of a thousand Blast-Ended Skrewts if he got thrown out of Hogwarts.

A shiver went up his spine.

Neville lowered his head. Slowly he turned. Why not go? That's what Harry and Hermione probably expected of him anyway.

"So you gonna go in or what?"

Neville's head snapped up. He gasped in surprise when he saw the girl standing just a couple meters from him, arms folded, an elfish grin on her dark lips.

"J-Janice?"

"No, I'm really Lavender Brown. I just drank a Polyjuice Potion to look like Janice. Of course it's me." Janice Pettibone's grin widened as she sauntered up to him.

"B-But I thought Professor Umbridge banned you from going to Hogsmeade?"

Janice shrugged. "Yeah? And when I was thirteen my father told me I couldn't go to a Queensryche concert, but I did anyway."

Neville's jaw fell open. He couldn't imagine disobeying his Gran like that. He really didn't want to imagine what she'd do to him if he ever did.

"Besides," she continued. "It'll save you the trouble of having to give me the rundown when you get back to Hogwarts.

"So, you gonna stand here all day holding up the wall . . .?" She tapped the side of Binglebog's. "Or are you gonna find out what this secret anti-Umbridge group is all about?"

"I . . . I . . ." His heart started to race, as it always did when he was afraid . . . or around Janice Pettibone.

"Come on, Nev. This isn't the time to get scared."

"But what if we get caught? We could get in serious trouble."

"We'll also be in serious trouble if we run into any of You-Know-Who's scumsuckers without the slightest idea how to fight them. You wanna risk that?"

Neville drew a ragged breath and shuffled his feet. "It's just . . . if Professor Umbridge finds out . . .

"Umbridge." Janice spat out the word. She looked Neville in the eyes and stepped closer. He held his breath.

"'We've taken care of everything, the words you read, the songs you sing, the pictures that you plug into your eyes.'"

Neville's face scrunched. "What's that?"

"It's from 'The Temples of Syrinx' off Rush's 2112 CD. The whole thing's about this galactic empire that controls everything. And that's what Umbridge is trying to do. Forcefeed us a bunch of crap, have us all stop thinking and just accept whatever she or your jackass Minister of Magic spew from their lying mouths. And anyone who doesn't buy into the party line gets punished . . . like this."

Janice held up her hand and ripped off the bandage. Neville leaned in closer. His eyes widened when he saw faint scratches on the back of the girl's thin hand. He gasped when he realized the scratches actually formed words.

_I will respect authority._

"I don't . . . how?"

"That fat bitch Umbridge." Janice lowered her hand. Her face took on a more menacing look. "When I'm writing lines in detention, I'm doing it in my _own blood."_

A sharp pain sliced through Neville's stomach. He looked down at Janice's hand.

"She's doing the same to Harry, too. Except he's been writing, 'I must not tell lies.'"

Neville's mouth moved silently for several seconds. He finally managed to mutter. "Haven't you told Professor McGonagall about this? Or Professor Dumbledore?"

"I can fight my own battles. Umbridge is trying to break me, and I'll be damned if I give that Nazi cow the satisfaction."

Neville couldn't take his eyes off Janice's hand. How many detentions had she served with Umbridge? How many times did she have to do those lines? And the words being carved into her skin . . . that had to hurt. After suffering through it so many times it must be like . . .

Torture.

A burning sensation spread through his soul. He felt it before. That day when Umbridge took Janice's Wizarding Walkman and made those bigoted comments.

It was anger. It swept through him like an uncontrollable fire. He didn't even try to control it. Didn't want to.

Neville looked over his shoulder at the Hog's Head, then turned back to Janice.

"Let's go."

XXXXX

Neville and Janice waited a couple minutes after Lavender and the Patil twins left before leaving themselves.

_No turning back now, I guess._

He pulled his robes closer around his tall body to fend off a chilly October breeze. Fear still coursed through him, but not as out-of-control as before. Anticipation, even excitement, pushed down his usual anxieties. He couldn't wait for the group's first lesson. He wanted to learn everything Harry knew, especially how to form a Patronus. That would certainly come in useful in a fight.

He tried to force himself to believe expulsion was worth it if he could learn how to really defend himself so the same thing wouldn't happen to him like what happened to his . . .

"Is this awesome or what?"

His chest seized when he felt Janice's hand on his shoulder. Neville glanced over and saw the American girl practically skipping next to him.

"Huh?"

Janice shot him a less-than-serious frown. "'Huh'? This. Our new little club. Learning all the spells that hag won't teach us. And we'll be doing it right under her hog-like snout."

"Uh-huh."

"Oh, I am loving this. We'll be sitting in class, nodding and saying 'yes, Professor Umbridge, no, Professor Umbridge,' acting like good little subservient robots. And that pink-clad cow will never know what we're doing behind her back."

Neville clenched his teeth.

"I think this is the most fun I've had at Hogwarts since I got here."

"This isn't a game, Janice." The sharpness of his own voice surprised Neville.

"Whoa." Janice backed up, hands raised. "Nev, chill."

"I'm not doing this for the sake of being rebellious like you."

Shock fell over Janice's pale features. "Nev, what the hell is your problem?"

"It's just . . . there's more to all this than just going against Umbridge. Can't you . . . I have to . . ."

Neville pressed his lips together, trying to hold back the rising anger. He held his breath when he noticed Janice's expression change from shock to distress.

He stomped off, leaving Janice behind.

"Nev? Nev!"

He didn't answer her, afraid his anger would lead him to say something they'd both regret.

XXXXX

Neville twisted his fork around in his shepherd's pie. He'd barely touched his dinner. Depression overwhelmed him with the thickness of an ash cloud. All he could think of was yelling at Janice outside Hogsmeade.

_Does she still like me?_

What he wouldn't give for a time turner so he could go back and prevent that outburst. But he couldn't help it. His reasons for joining Harry's secret group went far beyond just simple defiance to Umbridge. If only Janice could understand.

But that wasn't going to happen. He never shared this part of his life with anyone. Not Harry or Ron or Hermione. He certainly wouldn't share it with a trouble-making American witch he'd known less than two months.

"Neville? You all right?"

He slowly turned his head and saw Harry staring at him with a look of concern.

"Fine. I mean, no. It's my stomach. I think I'm going to go."

"Are you sure everything's all right?" asked Hermione.

Neville responded with a slight nod as he rose.

"Hey," Ron called out. "If you're not going to finish your shepherd's pie, can I have it?"

"Honestly, Ron." Hermione's head whipped toward Ron. "Do you think you can show just the slightest bit of concern?"

That sparked another Ron/Hermione row. Neville ignored it and trudged out of the Great Hall. He sighed, wishing Janice was around. For all his worries about being drawn into the girl's world of constant unruly behavior, he had grown used to her company. Heck, he liked her. Unlike most girls at Hogwarts, Janice treated him like a human being. Sure she sometimes teased him, but always in a good natured way, sort of like Fred and George Weasley.

Neville's shoulders sagged. Why did he have to go and yell at her like that? It wasn't her fault she didn't know about . . .

_Maybe it's for the best. Gran wouldn't want me with someone like her._

_Who cares what Gran wants?_

Neville stopped in his tracks. He blinked. Did he actually think that? The thought was so alien to him, just like his anger earlier today toward Janice.

_What's happening to me?_

He rubbed the back of his head as he walked up to the Fat Lady's portrait. It took him four tries before he got the password correct and entered the Gryffindor Common Room.

"I was wondering when you'd get back."

Neville gasped and looked up.

Janice sat on a sofa in the middle of the Common Room. She got up, concern etched in her face.

"Um . . . hi, Janice."

She extended her hands to her sides and shook her head. "'Hi, Janice'? That's it?"

"Um . . . I'm sorry I yelled at you today."

"Apology accepted, on one condition. What got you so hot?"

Neville gulped. His body tightened. If only he could tell her.

"Nev, you going off like you did outside the Hog's Head was as normal as Motorhead playing folk songs from the 1960s. What was bothering you?"

Panic surged through him. His breaths came short and fast. "I . . . I . . . I wish I could tell you. B-But I . . . I'm sorry."

Neville started toward the stairs leading to the boys' dormitory.

Janice jumped in front of him. "Nev, talk to me. I'm your friend. If something's bothering you I want to know." She paused. "I care about you."

The words hit him like a physical force. For a second Neville thought he'd collapse from shock.

"_I care about you." _Janice's words rang in his head over and over. No one at this school had _ever_ said those words to him.

He locked on Janice's eyes, ignoring the dark eyeliner and concentrating on those green orbs. Worry swirled within them.

Worry for him.

Before he could fully think it through, he opened his mouth and spoke. "My parents were aurors during the war with You-Know-Who. They were captured by Death Eaters, who used the Cruciatus Curse on them . . . over and over again."

A lump formed in Neville's throat. Janice's right hand slid over her heart.

"It was so bad Mum and Dad . . . they just weren't the same. They've been in St. Mungo's ever since. Their minds . . ." Neville's jaw clenched. He didn't trust himself to continue without breaking down.

"Oh my God. Neville, I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

He swallowed and went on in a shaky voice. "That's the main reason I wanted to join Harry's group. I want to be ready in case I ever meet any Death Eaters. Especially the ones who . . . who tortured Mum and Dad. And . . . I just want to do something to make them proud of me."

Neville looked away when he felt tears form in his eyes. He couldn't let Janice see. He closed his eyes, trying to will them away.

One escaped and slid down his cheek.

More than anything he wanted to be invisible, like he usually was at Hogwarts. He did not want to cry in front of Janice.

Neville felt a presence nearby. He forced himself to look up.

Janice stood inches from him. Her eyes glistened with moisture.

Suddenly she threw her arms around him. Shock seized his body. It quickly vanished as her hold around him tightened. Hesitantly, he moved his arms around Janice. His heart hammered in his chest. He lost himself in the sensation of Janice's body pressed against his.

Eyes closed, he rested his cheek on her black and purple hair. Merlin's Beard, it felt so soft.

Neville had no idea how much time passed, nor did he care. He just knew the longer he held Janice, the better he felt.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	3. Chapter 3

"_Expelliarmus!"_

An invisible force yanked the wand from Neville's hand. He turned and watched it spin through the air and clatter on the floor, rolling to a stop near Zacharias Smith's foot. The Hufflepuff boy glared at Neville and kicked the wand away.

Sighing, he trudged over and picked it up.

_That's the sixth time she's gotten me._

He didn't turn around. He just stood, rolling his wand between his fingers.

"Hey, Nev. Time's a'wastin'. C'mon."

He glanced over his shoulder at Janice Pettibone, who had an expectant look on her face. Neville turned away, gazing around the Room of Requirement. The zaps of Disarming Charms filled the air. He saw Ginny Weasley disarm Michael Corner with little effort. Fred's wand flew from his hand, after which he cheered George's success. Even Colin Creevey managed to disarm his younger brother Dennis.

_And I can't disarm Janice once._

He heard a feminine cough behind him. A wand tapped him on the head. Neville spun around and came face-to-face with Janice.

"You're not gonna disarm me by standing around gawking at everyone else. C'mon."

"What's the point?" he muttered.

Janice's brow furrowed. "The point is to actually learn Defense Against the Dark Arts. Remember?"

"But I'm no good at it. I'm no good at anything."

Neville walked past her, head lowered.

"Will you stop putting yourself down." Janice's voice held an edge. "Look, this is just our first lesson. All you need is some practice and . . ."

"I've been trying to do these spells for over four years." Neville threw out his arms in frustration. He noticed Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell and Terry Boot staring at him. "But I can never get it right. I never will."

"You just have to keep trying. Hey, John Bonham didn't become one of the greatest drummers ever overnight. He had to work at it. Besides, it just takes some people longer than others to get the hang of stuff."

"But what if I don't? Gran wants me to be just as good, even better, than my parents. How can I do that if I can't even cast a decent Disarming Charm?"

"Argh, Neville." Janice groaned and leaned her head back. "Will you quit worrying about what your grandmother thinks."

"You don't know what it's like living with her. You don't know how intimidating she can be."

Janice shrugged. "Hey, my dad's an FBI agent. Let me tell you, that's no picnic either."

Neville frowned and shook his head. "I'm just a disappointment. To Gran, to everybody. I can't do any of this." He waved his arm at the other D.A. members practicing their Disarming Charms. "The only thing I am any good at is herbology. Who cares about that? I know Gran doesn't."

Her pale face tightening, Janice stepped closer to him. "If you're good at herbology, you can be good at this, too."

"No I can't. No one expects me to, anyway."

"Neville, it's time you stopped giving a damn about what other people think. All you're doing is letting the opinions of other people dictate your life. If people expect you to fail, show them they're wrong. Throw it right back in their faces and say, 'I can do this.'"

Swallowing, Neville looked into Janice's eyes. Her green orbs blazed with intensity. Her energy seemed to reached out and take hold of him. He straightened and drew a deep breath.

"So. Are you ready to give it another try?"

"Y-Yeah. But only . . ." Neville's neck muscles tensed.

"What?"

"I mean . . . what if you don't try to defend yourself and let me beat you?"

"Oh for God's sake." Janice rolled her eyes. With an angry breath she whirled around.

Neville's stomach rolled. He should have kept his mouth shut. Now she'd go off and find a new partner, leave him here by himself to . . .

"Hey, Harry!" Janice waved to Harry Potter, who'd been walking around the Room of Requirement observing the D.A. members.

He walked over to them. "What's up, Janice?"

"I was wondering if you could take over for me. I think Neville needs a new partner. Just to liven things up a bit, you know?"

Harry glanced to Neville, then back to Janice. "Sure."

Tremors of panic built up within Neville. He was going to duel Harry Potter? He aimed his wide eyes at Janice.

_What is she thinking?_

He was pathetic when it came to the Disarming Charm . . . actually, he was pathetic at most spells. Now Janice wanted him to duel Harry, the guy who'd actually faced You-Know-Who face-to-face . . . and lived?

Sweat formed on his brow. A cold feeling gripped his stomach. He stared at Janice again. Fear tore into his soul. Was she setting him up to be embarrassed? Was their friendship over these past couple of months a farce?

_Why else would she do something like this?_

Harry stepped off ten paces. Neville gazed at him with dread. He didn't stand a chance against Harry.

Something soft wrapped around his hand. His head snapped down.

Janice gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

He gasped and looked up at her. Confidence radiated from her eyes and face. Confidence aimed at him.

An electric tingle shot through his body as she put her lips next to his ear. His legs turned to jelly as her warm breath caressed his ear.

"I believe in you."

With a parting smile, she walked away from him.

Neville watched her go, still feeling the softness of her touch on his hand.

He gripped his wand and turned to Harry, heart racing.

"Ready, Neville?"

He nodded, replaying Janice's words in his head. _"I believe in you."_

"On three," Harry said.

Again, Neville nodded. Sweat poured from his clenched fist and dampened his wand.

"One . . . Two . . . Three!"

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Neville's wand shot out of his hand. It struck the ceiling in a shower of sparks and fell on top of a bookshelf. A few D.A. members snickered.

His insides collapsed. Who was he kidding? He wasn't in the same league as Harry Potter. He wasn't in anyone's league. He was just . . .

"Neville."

He turned his head. Janice fixed her intense gaze on him and nodded.

"_I believe in you."_ Neville replayed the words in his head again.

Harry retrieved Neville's wand with a Summoning Spell.

"Ready, Neville." Harry asked after Neville took hold of his wand.

"Uh-huh." _"I believe in you."_

Harry took another scan of the room to observe other people's work. He then looked back at Neville.

"One . . . Two . . ."

A wayward spell passed a meter over Harry's head. He turned right and noticed a guilty-looking Colin Creevey.

"Sorry, Harry."

"That's all right, Colin. Just keep at it."

Harry's head came back toward Neville.

"Three!"

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Harry's head and torso snapped around as he watched his wand spiral across the room.

Neville gaped, his eyes locked on the spinning wand. For a second he thought it was an illusion. He couldn't have . . .

_Yes. I did it._

_  
_"I DID IT!!" A smile spread over his face. "I never done it before – I DID IT!!"

Several D.A. members stopped casting Disarming Charms and turned toward him. He noticed Ginny smiling at him. Even Hermione managed a grin.

"Good one!" Harry said.

Before he could respond to Harry, Janice barreled into him and threw her arms around him.

"I knew you could do it, Nev! I knew it!"

Neville squeezed her tight. Elation overwhelmed him. He actually disarmed Harry Potter. And he was hugging Janice. He really liked this. The way she felt against his body. And her hair. The way it felt, the way it smelled. He just wanted to hold her forever.

Momentary disappointment swept through him when Janice pulled away.

"Did you see, Janice? I rea-"

Janice surged forward and kissed him.

Neville went rigid. This stunned him more than disarming Harry.

Her lips remained on his. The taste was nothing like he'd ever experienced. Like dark licorice, only sharper . . . and wetter. What was in that lipstick of hers?

The kiss went on so long Neville thought his lungs would explode.

Finally, Janice's lips pulled away with a soft smack.

Neville stumbled back. His mouth moved up and down silently. A wave of dizziness surrounded his head. His legs gave out.

Neville collapsed in a heap on the floor.

A high-pitched roaring noise snapped him out of his shock. It took a few seconds to recognize the sound.

Laughter.

He gazed around the room. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil hung onto one another in a fit of giggles. Anthony Goldstein clutched his stomach and doubled over with laughter. Fred and George wore huge grins and gave him a thumbs up.

Neville's face went flush. He trembled as the laughter increased. His eyes flickered over to Katie Bell, who said something to a laughing Alicia Spinnet.

What were they saying? What were they thinking? Would they tell others? Would everyone at Hogwarts soon know that the first time he kissed a girl he fell on his arse from shock?

He finally turned back to Janice, who stared at him with a sympathetic look.

Neville scrambled to his feet, not bothering to dust himself off. Head down, he walked as fast as possible to the door.

"Neville?"

He ignored Janice and pushed open the door. He didn't stop walking until he'd gone through three different corridors. Neville flung himself against the stone wall, holding a hand to his chest to halt his rapid breathing.

_I can't even kiss a girl right . . . and now everybody knows it._

"Nev!"

His head whipped to the right.

Janice headed toward him, a distraught look on her face.

He started to walk away from her.

"Neville!" She sprinted over to him and grabbed the back of his robes.

"Why did you do that?" He spun around to face her.

"Because I like you. Isn't that obvious?"

"But in front of all those people. And I . . . they must be thinking-"

"Who cares what they think? Neville, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'd never do that. It's just . . . I was so happy for you, and I couldn't help myself."

"You're serious?"

Janice nodded. "Like I said. I like you, Neville."

"Why me? There are other guys around here better than me. I'm not good-looking or popular or smart or anything."

"Wrong. You are something. You're an absolutely sweet guy."

"What girl wants someone who's sweet?"

"Me." A serious expression formed on Janice's face. "I've been with those 'popular' guys before. You want to know something about them? They're completely self-absorbed, slaves to conformity, and they treated me like crap."

"But . . . But why me?"

"Why you? Because after I got sorted and was looking around the Gryffindor table for a place to sit, I noticed this really cute guy contemplating his hands, not talking to anyone, looking so lonely. I know what it's like to be an outcast. To have people ignore you because you're different. I thought we might have something in common, that you might turn out to be a friend. You did. Actually, you turned out to be more than a friend."

Impossible as it seemed, Neville's heart beat harder. _She thinks I'm cute? She thinks I'm more than a friend?_

"No one here's ever said they believe in me. I . . ." Neville tried to beat down his anxiety. His palms became soaked in sweat. "I like you, too. And I . . . I think you're pretty."

Janice smiled and crossed the short distance between them. She placed her hands on Neville's shoulders. "I told you you were sweet."

She kissed him.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry I fell down when you kissed me in front of the D.A."

Janice softly chuckled. "That's all right. It's just like I said with your Disarming Charm. You just need more practice."

Taking both his hands, she led him behind a tapestry of a galloping unicorn. Shielded from the outside world, they kissed again. Neville held her tightly in his arms, savoring the exotic taste of her lips.

Fear invaded his brain. What if Gran knew he was involved with a girl like this?

He felt Janice's tongue slowly wind its way inside his mouth.

_Gran will just have to deal with it._

* * *

_**THE END . . . FOR NOW**_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_I'll more than likely continue to explore Neville and Janice's relationship in the future, whenever the idea for a good story hits me. Next time I'll probably write in Janice's POV. As a guy, I like to get in good practice writing from a female character's point of view. Thanks for reading, and I hope I've developed Janice Pettibone into a good character. _


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